


For Fire and Blood

by lj_todd



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Elia Survives, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lj_todd/pseuds/lj_todd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They took her daughter. They took her husband. They took her sister-wife and sister-son. They took her throne and forced her to run for her life. She will take it all back and more. </p>
<p>For Vengeance. </p>
<p>For Justice. </p>
<p>For Fire and Blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Fire and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt from the ASoIaF Kinkmeme.
> 
> _ Elia/Lyanna/Rhaegar - Elia escapes with Aegon and Connington. They took her daughter. They took her husband. They took her sister-wife and sister-son. They took her throne and forced her to run for her life. She will take it all back and more. For Vengeance. For Justice. For Fire and Blood._

She sat below the deck of the ship, holding her whimpering babe to her breast, trying to sooth him as the ship rocked back and forth. It had been like this for nearly four days. Four days of fear and uncertainty. Four days of wondering if they would even survive the voyage to...where ever it was that Connington was taking them. He had vowed to protect them, to keep them safe from all harm, but she had her doubts. He was but one man. A loyal man, true enough, but still only one man.

When her babe whimpered again, loudly, beginning to fuss, she rocked him gently, whispering softly, soothingly. "It's alright, my little dragon," she cooed, smiling down at him. "It's alright. I'm here. Mother's here."

Her heart lurched as she recalled the children she hadn't been able to save. Rhaenys, her beautiful girl, so full of life and joy. She'd heard the screams, hidden as she'd been, but had been unable to go to Rhaenys, had been unable to save her daughter as she had her son. Days later, whisked away by Connington, she had learned her husband's mother and siblings had also escaped to Dragonstone. Though beyond that she knew nothing of their fates. It had also been then that she had learned what had happened to the Stark girl that Rhaegar had taken. The girl that nearly all of Westeros had gone to war over.

_Lyanna._

She closed her eyes for a moment, easily calling Lyanna's face from her memory. Beautiful and strong with dark hair and sharp grey eyes. A true Northerner. She had easily seen why Rhaegar had been so taken with Lyanna, had seen why her husband could fall in love with the girl. And he hadn't been alone. She had spent time, however brief, with Lyanna and had come to love her just as Rhaegar did. She had even taken it upon herself to use an old Targaryen tradition and made Lyanna her sister-wife. Claiming the child Lyanna carried would be loved by her as though it were her own.

Then the rebellion had begun to truly swell, the Storm Lord leading it winning victory after victory, and Rhaegar had grown concerned for the safety of his wives and children. The plan had been born then, that she and Lyanna would go to Dorne, to Sunspear, where they and their children would be safe. Lyanna had been taken first, by three members of the Kingsguard. They would wait for Elia and her own guards at the Tower of Joy. From there they would travel to the capital, to where Elia's brothers would keep them safe.

How horribly wrong all of that had gone.

Rhaegar had ridden out to meet Robert Baratheon in battle.

And Rhaegar had died.

Elia, heartbroken and enraged, had planned to ride for the Tower, to collect Lyanna and make for Sunspear. But then the Lannister forces had sacked the city and she'd been forced to hide. Forced to sit in darkness, praying her son's cries didn't give them away, listening to the death all around them. And then, only to learn later that it would do her little good to have rode for the mountains of Dorne.

Lyanna had died at the Tower. Her guards had died protecting her. No word was mentioned of a child and so Elia knew, in her heart and soul, she knew that the child had died with Lyanna. Rhaegar had been so certain it was another daughter. Lyanna had laughed and said that it wasn't. That it was a boy. Elia had just laughed at them both, not caring either way. It still caused her unimaginable grief to think of the child, her beloved Lyanna's child, dying before ever having the chance to live. The chance to be loved.

Her son gurgled softly, drawing her from the dark thoughts and she cooed to him, humming softly the tune of _The Dornishman's Wife_.

Footsteps drew her attention upwards, fear made her tense and nervous, but it was only Connington. The man, who had loved her husband as dearly as she and Lyanna had, gave a weak smile as he sat on the bench across from where she sat. "Is he well," Connington asked as he nodded towards her son, the concern written clearly on his face.

"He's fine," she replied calmly, looking back at her son, smiling at her now somewhat calm child. "Just fussy."

"It's the ship, no doubt, makes him nervous."

The ship jerked again, more violently this time, and Elia flinched, a soft gasp falling from her lips even as Connington reached out to steady her. "And he's not the only one," Connington said softly, waiting until Elia was seated firmly once more before withdrawing his hand. "Another two or three days and we'll be on dry land again."

"And where will that land be, Ser Jon?"

"Volantis, your Grace."

_Easteros,_ she thought as she gave a nod. _Far from the clutches of Robert Baratheon and his dogs. But also far from Dorne, from Doran and Oberyn who would hide and protect us._

"And you think we'll be safe there?"

Connington made a soft sound. "For a while," he admitted. "But we can't stay in one place for too long. I...I don't know how many spies the Usurper may have at his command. And I won't put you or your son at risk."

"You're risking much for us."

"I do it gladly, your Grace."

Elia couldn't help but smile sadly at him. "You do it because you loved Rhaegar."

Connington stared at her for a moment, as thought surprised she'd known such a thing. "He was my closet friend, your Grace, and..."

"There is no shame in loving someone, Ser Jon." Elia had always hated the way the rest of Westeros treated such things. In Dorne it was simple. Love was love and that was the end of it. "I know he loved you too, in his own way."

Connington nodded, though she knew he would not easily accept her words.

"I was going to fetch from bread and cheese, would you like some?"

She knew he was doing this to turn the conversation, and she went along with it, nodding and thanking him before he rose and stepped away. Looking back down at her son she found herself smiling sadly once again. Her son would never know his father. Would never know the woman who would have loved him like he was her own. He would be hunted. Always running. Always hiding. What sort of life was that for a child born of two great Houses? A child that should have been King?

_He will thrive,_ she thought as she rocked him, watching his eyes open for a moment, peering up at her with his father's eyes. _I will raise him to be strong but kind like his father. To be fierce and loyal like Lyanna. To be a good man. A good King._

She hugged him close, determined to raise him to be a man that Rhaegar and Lyanna would have been proud of. A man that his lost siblings would have loved as fiercely as her own loved her. Her son would be the King that Westeros deserved to have.

She thought then of the Usurper and his lapdogs. Lannister. Tully. Arryn. Baratheon. They were no better than animals. The Starks at least had shown some form of honour. Lord Eddard had, she learned, been horrified and enraged by what had been done to _her_ and her children. For her love of Lyanna, the Starks would be spared in the wake of her coming vengeance. But the rest would never know such mercy from her and her son. They would suffer before paying for what they had done.

They had taken her daughter. 

They had taken her husband. 

They had taken her sister-wife and sister-child. 

They had taken her throne and forced her to run for her life. 

But she was strong. She was a daughter of Dorne, a Princess of House Martell.

She was Unbowed, Unbent and Unbroken.

She would take it all back and more.

For the lovers and children that had been stolen from her.

For the son she would raise to one day take his rightful place as King of Westeros.

For justice and vengeance.

For Fire and Blood.


End file.
